Victims of the Wind
by MissSaraLizBeth
Summary: If a scream echoes in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, was there really any sound?


The night was a deep, hazy violet, and a subtle sprinkling of rain had begun falling from the looming darkness above. It had been long since people had gone to sleep that night, and yet, I found myself in the woods rather than in my bed another night. My feet carried me across rivulets of water, run-off from the distant falls, twigs, dead leaves, and patches of pine needles scattered across the forest floor. I ran at a decent pace, occasionally stopping at a tree to check my timing. Branches swayed in the light wind above, as I ran below them. I had been taking up the habit of running every night for the past month to clear my head of the chaos reigning on my life. I continued on running at my leisurely pace, avoiding reality, jumping over fallen braches and tree trunks, music consuming my thoughts as it blared in my ears, demanding my undivided attention. Mud spattered on my bare legs, coating my sneakers as I continued dodging around the obstacles of the seemingly continuous woods. The vivid dark haunted me, and I knew I was alone in this forest bursting with beginnings, and endings. I was running through a slight clearing, near a road leading toward town, floating off into my own little niche in the dense jungle of the night, until something forced me from my escape.

"Darren? Darren!" a voice yelled through the darkness.

At first, I thought something was wrong with my music. I slowed to a stop, and ripped my earbuds from my ears. I listened closely, and then I realized someone was screaming at the top of their lungs. I hadn't even noticed the thick fog that was moving across the woods at an alarming rate. I sprinted, top speed, towards the voice. I tore my flashlight from my pocket and clicked it on. I was at the interim of the woods and the road when I saw through a break in the misty haze a figure holding the woman who I presumed had screamed. She was writhing and thrashing against his grasp. I was glued to the ground, watching horrorstruck, unable to muster the ability to do anything. I was paralyzed from shock. The woman's thrashing against her attacker slowed, and then she fell to the road, unmoving. The figure stepped over her. I couldn't fathom what was going on, though subconsciously, I knew. My mouth fell agape, and I grappled some form of realization. I moved ever so slightly as to get closer, either to confront the attacker or help the people lying helpless, but stopped cold as my foot crunched a dead leaf. I gasped, squeezed my eyes shut, and listened intently for any sign of movement, but there was none. When I opened my eyes, the figure was gone.

It took a few seconds for everything to really sink in. I immediately ran to the man and woman lying in the road, ten feet apart, dropping my flashlight in the process. My feet slid in the mud, but I continued rushing towards them. I slid on my knees, scraping them raw and red, and knelt over the man. He wasn't moving.

"Somebody help! HELP!" I screamed. I turned the man over, and almost went numb with fear. My instinct told me to run from this place, but I couldn't.

His neck was bloody and torn, ravaged from the assault. I tried to wrap my mind around what I was seeing, and I knew exactly what had happened. I was going to vomit from all this panic. Wracking, shaky breaths escaped me. The man's muddy brown eyes stared at nothing, and he remained limp. I thrust my hands over the lifeless body in attempt to undo all this damage.

"No, no, no, you can't be dead. Wake up, sir," I whispered hysterically, shaking him. I had just witnessed a murder. It couldn't be possible.

"Seeing is believing, sweetheart." A voice said, clear and strong, startling me. The numbness grew, and I practically spontaneously combusted right there from pure terror. The voice was coming from directly behind me. A lone tear fell from my eye, and I knew right in that moment, I was going to die. I turned slowly to face the figure that had inflicted this tragedy.

Deep crimson, potent and fresh dripped from his mouth and chin. Veins bulged underneath his red eyes, and his fangs were on full display. I swallowed loudly, knowing very well his carnal instinct was going to push him to killing me. I sobbed, holding my hand to my mouth. I wasn't ready to die. All the vampire did was smirk ruthlessly. He slowly moved closer. Yet again I was crippled by this intense, instinctual fear.

I was unable to even grapple with the existence of vampires.

"You've called for help, and, I suppose I could do for a little dessert. I promised myself I'd cut back, but, who does, anyways?" he said, speaking as though this was a game.

"Please, don't kill me," I whispered, breathing ragged, avoiding his burning eyes.

"But I'm just so _hungry_. What's your name, darlin'?"

"Laura," I stated. I slipped my hand into my pocket, catching his stare with my own eyes. I was trying to fish out my pepper spray. I grasped the chain, and pulled it out, as he turned and continued this treacherous questionnaire. He had moved to be just in front of me, and I quivered, knees shaking, tears rolling. He smiled, and pressed his fingertips to my neck. I then whipped out my pepper spray, squirted it in his eyes and moved my knee to contact his groin, and he doubled over in pain.

I sprinted, jumping over the victims of this parasite, past their dented car, as fast as my feet would carry me down the road. The pepper spray fell from my grasp, and I willed myself to go faster. I was approaching Wickery Bridge, when the vicious monster appeared at the end of the bridge. The friendly façade was gone. I turned to run the other direction, but he was there.

"Now, I guess we'll have to do this the hard way, Laura." The vampire said, looking dead on into my eyes. "You will forget when I've finished with you."

And with that, he grabbed the back of my neck and pierced the supple flesh of my neck with his razor sharp fangs. The pain was unbearable, and so was the feeling of utter weakness. I beat against his restraining grasp, my struggles useless. My limbs grew saggy as the essence of life was being drained from my veins. I mustered what felt like my last breath, and screamed, long and loud.

If a scream echoes in the woods, and no one is around to hear it, was there really a sound?

**AN**: Thanks so much for reading. I wrote this in a splurge one night in attempt to do the Damon/OC pairing justice, so I hope I will eventually. Of course, this is simply the first chapter. There are plenty of twists and turns in store if enough people like this! Please, please, PLEASE review if you liked this, or if you think I could do anything different. If you couldn't tell, the attacker/figure/vampire is Damon.

LOVE YOUR LOVELY SOUL

-Sara


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